A Work in Progress
by Carlanime
Summary: Mildred Harkness, ambitious daughter of shopkeepers, must decide what it means to be loyal to Slytherin House.
1. Default Chapter

**Warnings:** This story is set post-OotP, and may contain inadvertent spoilers. "A Work in Progress" is contraindicated for readers with an allergy to original characters or with Acute Mary-Sue-itis. It contains annoying original character: you have been warned.

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling.** This fanfic is for entertainment purposes only, and no profit is being made from this fanfic.

**Dedication:** A work in Progress is dedicated to lj user"moontime" , for indulging my own loyalty to Slytherin House.

Mildred Harkness threw herself across her bed and wondered, not for the first time, if she'd ever be memorable for anything other than being the plumpest first-year in Slytherin.

"What's wrong, Millie?" asked Veronica, her voice dripping with concern, managing to score a hat trick of sheer annoyance: the tone, the question, and the stupid nickname all managed to make Mildred grind her teeth. Nevertheless, she brought her mood under control before answering smoothly.

"Nothing, Ronnie dear," said Mildred, striving for chumminess. "I've just been walking around the grounds for exercise, and it's made me a little crabby."

Veronica nodded. "I understand," she said, smiling, and for a second the sheer gall of it-_as if that skinny bitch has the faintest idea_-almost broke through Mildred's determination. Still, part of succeeding at school meant having friends, and since Mildred was as yet too much of a non-entity to attract any other friends than Ronnie Miller, she was determined to make a go of this "best friend" thing. Being alone might be less frustrating, but nobody ever got ahead by being perceived as a moody loner. She smiled back.

"I just need to catch my breath," she said.

"Well, don't get your uniform crumpled," Veronica said sweetly. "There's a house meeting in half an hour, and all the first years _have_ to be in attendance. You don't want to look sloppy."

"Who called the meeting?" Mildred asked, sitting up.

"The prefects, of course," said Veronica, tossing her hair. "The Sixth-year prefects, to be exact. They said we _had_ to be there. Not that I mind," she added, contentedly, "if that dreamy Draco Malfoy is going to be there." She giggled.

Mildred laughed weakly, but thought, '_first chance I get, I'm trading her in for someone with a functioning brain cell!_'


	2. Scene 2

**Warnings:** This story is set post-OotP, and may contain inadvertent spoilers. "A Work in Progress" is contraindicated for readers with an allergy to original characters or with Acute Mary-Sue-itis. It contains annoying original characters: you have been warned.

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling.** This fanfic is for entertainment purposes only, and no profit is being made from this fanfic.

**Dedication:** "A work in Progress" is dedicated to lj user moontime, for indulging my own loyalty to Slytherin House.

The Slytherin common room was packed to overflowing. Mildred and Veronica found a place to sit on the floor in front of a green leather armchair shared by three second-year students.

"All right, you lot," said Draco Malfoy, "quiet. Listen up. This year it is vitally important that Slytherin win the House Cup. That means I expect all of you to be focused on this. Your appearance must be impeccable at all times. Your behaviour must be irreproachable at all times. I hear about any of you losing House points, and I will _personally_ make you pay for it. Got that?" There were cheers and applause from all corners of the room as two large thuggish-looking boys standing beside him struck menacing poses.

"He's so _forceful_," purred Veronica in Mildred's ear. She flicked her long blonde hair over one shoulder and gazed adoringly up at Draco, who was oblivious to her attention. Mildred rolled her eyes and tried not to gag. She privately thought that Draco looked like a bit of a lightweight, personality-wise; if he were all that bloody "forceful," wouldn't he be able to command respect without threats and goon-age? But she said nothing, figuring it was simpler to let Veronica simper her little heart out.

"I also expect you all to earn points—yes, even you peons in first year," Draco went on. "Whatever skills you have—athletic, academic, extracurricular—I expect to see you _using them_ for the advancement of Slytherin House. Your ambition, for the rest of this term, should be to make your House proud, your families proud, and our founder proud. We will not be beaten by a bunch of foul mudbloods or do-gooder Hufflepuffs."

The room exploded with applause and howls of approval. Even Mildred found herself riveted.

"Now then," said Draco, holding up his hands until the noise faded, "I want us to be organized about this. Each and every one of us has strengths we can play to. For example: who here expects to make straight As this term?"

Hands shot up around the room. Mildred had her hand in the air when she realized Veronica was looking at her in horror. "Millie, don't!" she hissed. "They'll think you're just showing off!" But it was too late. Draco was standing in front of them, smirking. "A first year?" he said. "Isn't that a little over-confident?" Mildred felt her stomach turn over as she glanced around and saw that none of the other raised hands belonged to first years. Several people were snickering, including a female prefect whose name she didn't know.

"Idiot," sneered the girl.

"No, Pansy, don't discourage her," said Draco thoughtfully. "That Granger bitch has been pulling top marks since first year. We should be making our first years strive to beat that standard." He raised his voice. "Okay, all of you who feel your strength is in academics: I want to see you forming study groups so you can help each other stay competitive. Next up: sport…"

He went on, clearly having dismissed Mildred's existence from his mind, but that momentary acknowledgement earned her a glare from Pansy. _Chill, babe; at ten stone I'm hardly a threat_, Mildred thought bitterly. _Realistically speaking, a chunk like me would crush that lithe little bastard_.

"I don't know why you worry so much about grades anyway," Veronica said in honeyed tones, but loudly enough that everyone nearby could hear. "You'll have a job waiting for you at your parents shop no matter what your marks are like when you leave school, won't you?" Several people snickered audibly.

Mildred held her head high. "I don't intend to spend my life keeping shop in Diagon Alley," she said coldly, wondering for the first time what lay beneath Veronica's saccharine exterior.


	3. Scene 3

Warnings: This story is set post-OotP, and may contain inadvertent spoilers. "A Work in Progress" is contraindicated for readers with an allergy to original characters or with Acute Mary-Sue-itis. It contains annoying original characters: you have been warned.

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. This fanfic is for entertainment purposes only, and no profit is being made from this fanfic.

Dedication: "A work in Progress" is dedicated to lj user moontime, for indulging my own loyalty to Slytherin House.

The rest of Mildred's first month at Hogwarts was more social than she could have predicted. Thanks to the study groups, she now had several second- and even third-year Slytherins who greeted her by name on occasion. Malcolm Baddock even went so far as to punch her playfully on the arm when she showed the group her latest 'A' on an assignment, and say "good job, Harkness."

True, none of that translated into offers to do anything outside of studying, but she had Veronica for that, and to walk to and from classes with. After a few days of eyeing her suspiciously for signs of trying to attract Draco's attention, Veronica had gone back to being chatty.

One morning at breakfast, when a post owl had dropped off another enormous care package to Mildred from her parents, Veronica even unbent enough to ask if she could buy a bag of Bertie Bott's Beans off her.

"Just take them," said Mildred, shrugging carelessly. She'd been so busy in the evenings that she hadn't been snacking at nearly her normal rate, and was still only halfway through the last parcel they'd sent from home.

"You're sure?" said Veronica, snatching them eagerly. That night Mildred entered their room and caught Veronica seated cross-legged on her own bed, furtively working on something involving a scrap of lace and oodles of pink ribbon. She tried to conceal it but Mildred sat down on the edge of the bed, shifted a stack of books, and picked up the little handmade gift bag containing the Bertie Bott's Beans, and labeled, in Veronica's curliqued script, "from your secret admirer."

"Well, what do you care?" said Veronica defensively, blushing deeply. "You never talk to him or anything. Are you going to take them back?"

"I don't care," said Mildred honestly. "And _no_, of course I'm not going to take them back. I said you could have them, didn't I?"

Veronica relaxed a little. "You're not jealous?" she demanded.

"Of this?" Mildred rolled her eyes. "No. Honestly, if you want him you can have him. Best of luck and all that."

"I'm not as stupid as you thin I am," said Veronica. "I know perfectly well he doesn't know or care that I exist. I just like him, that's all."

Mildred grinned, feeling unexpectedly fond of her. _Poor old Veronica; just because she has a stupid ambition is no reason not to hope she achieves it. _

"Anything I can do to help?" she asked, and immediately regretted her burst of comradeship when Veronica answered.

"Yes. I'm sneaking out of the dorm tonight to follow him, actually—come keep me company, all right?"


	4. scene 4

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling.** This fanfic is for entertainment purposes only, and no profit is being made from this fanfic.

**Dedication:** A Work in Progress is dedicated to lj user moontime, for indulging my own loyalty to Slytherin House.

"I cannot _believe_ we're doing this," Mildred grumbled as they crept down the long hall connecting the first-years' dorm room to the Slytherin common room. She was wearing green-and-white striped flannel pajamas and a thick bathrobe, but she was still shivering, the damp cold penetrating straight to her bones.

"We won't get caught, Millie," Veronica said automatically, but Mildred wasn't reassured. Veronica's voice had a drippy, dreamy quality to it that suggested she rather liked the idea of being caught.

At the entrance of the common room they hesitated, peering in to see Draco and Pansy sitting near the fire. Mildred poked Veronica sharply in the ribs with her elbow and pointed to the lumpish forms of Crabbe and Goyle, slumbering in armchairs only a few metres from the doorway. Veronica's nose wrinkled in distaste, and she allowed Mildred to pull her back into the shadowy hall.

"How did you think of it?" Pansy was simpering, and Mildred cringed, half-expecting Veronica to give away their position.

"Communication is crucial to winning any war," Draco was answering. "Even Muggles know that. Although the Muggle-lovers here don't seem to have figured it out yet."

"I think it's brilliant," Pansy answered. "So once we've cut off their means of communication, what happens next?"

Draco's voice grew a few degrees chillier. "Never mind that—you'll be told as much as you need to know, when you need to know it. Crabbe! Goyle!" he said sharply. The heaps in the armchairs jumped slightly, and so did Mildred. "Are you watching that door?"

"Yes," said Crabbe sullenly.

Mildred couldn't bring herself to move for several seconds after that, for fear they'd be seen. Her heart was pounding so hard she almost didn't hear Draco saying, "We'll do it tomorrow night, then. I'll meet you at the owlery; I have other matters to take care of first."

She tugged on Veronica's arm, and they inched their way back along the corridor. Once they were finally back in their room, she whispered frantically, "Do you realize what they were talking about? They're going after the owls!"

"The poor little owls!" said Veronica. "I think that Pansy Parkinson is a _loathsome_ person."

"Never mind that," said Mildred impatiently. "We have to stop them. If they do it, and get caught afterwards, our House reputation will be _ruined_."


	5. scene 5

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. This fanfic is for entertainment purposes only, and no profit is being made from this fanfic.**

**Dedication:** _A Work in Progress is dedicated to lj user moontime, for indulging my own loyalty to Slytherin House._

"I can't believe, after all the moaning you did last night, that we're sneaking out again," grumbled Veronica as they made their way to the west tower. "And this is way worse than just slipping out of bed to go to the common room."

"I couldn't think of any other way to protect the owls," said Mildred, grimly trudging beside her. "You wouldn't want anything to happen to the owls, would you?" she added persuasively. "The poor, fluffy little owls?" She thought it was grossly unfair that Veronica managed to look graceful even bundled in a fluffy bathrobe; her own bathrobe just made her look bulgy.

"But poor Draco!" said Veronica. "If he gets caught in the owlery when he shouldn't be…"

"It won't be as bad as if he does something to the owls, and then gets caught afterwards," Mildred pointed out. "Besides, Pansy will get caught too." Veronica fell silent.

Inside the owlery it was cold and kind of musty-smelling. Laying several sheets of paper on a stone window-ledge, Mildred used her left hand to address a note to Professor Snape, hoping that using the wrong hand would disguise her handwriting. Veronica stopped watching the owls and glanced at the note; in nearly-illegible handwriting Mildred had written _Owls in danger—students at owlery—please come at once._

"I'm sending a copy each to Professors Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and one each to Dumbledore and Filch," she explained, adding impatiently, "you _could_ help. I need them all ready to go at the same time, so we can get out of here before the first owl gets to anyone."

Veronica sighed deeply, but tied Professor Snape's message to one of the brown school owls and gently coaxed it to wait.

When all the messages had been attached and the six owls had departed, Mildred said, "We have to hurry. We've got to get out of here before Draco shows up."

"We could go meet him and warn him," Veronica said pleadingly.

"No, we couldn't," Mildred said, dragging Veronica across the fewmet-covered straw on the floor and out into the corridor.

Veronica looked furious. "You mean," she demanded, "we've saved Draco from being sent down, and we've saved the good name of our House, and we can't tell anyone?"

It was the first time Mildred had ever seen anyone actually stamp their foot. "Well, think about it," she said reasonably. "Would you like to tell Draco you're the one who ratted him out? Would you like to explain to Professor Snape why you snuck out to spy on Draco? Or were you planning to tell some third person, so they could blab it and both Draco and Snape could find out second-hand?"

Veronica was still pouting. "I know, I know," she said, following Mildred back towards their dorm. "I see what you mean, Millie. It just isn't fair! What did we do it for, if Draco's not going to know I saved him, and you're not going to earn oodles of House points and win the House Cup for Slytherin?"

Mildred shrugged. "I agree; it sucks," she said. But that's the problem with being a minor background character, isn't it? You never really get to save the day, and the important people barely know you exist. The best we can hope for," she concluded, "is that our story might be interesting in its own right."


End file.
